


control & compulsion

by orphan_account



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kleptomania, idk if it counts as a character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-12 23:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21234716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dawn comforted herself by repeating a mantra she created: “I have control over this.” Only problem was: she didn’t.





	control & compulsion

It started before her mother died.

At first it seemed like a test. She stole pencils simply because she wondered if she could get away with it. Stealing caused a little adrenaline rush, and the possibility of being caught was exhilarating. It was stupid—just a little pencil, after all, but she kept doing it. She kept doing it because she could, not that she needed to, at least that’s what she told herself. Dawn comforted herself by repeating a mantra she created: “I have control over this.” 

Only problem was: she didn’t. 

While it was just mundane things, she would joke about it with her friends. They thought it was funny. They even got in on it a few times too, when it was minimal. But then it got worse. It was no longer a test or a dare, it was a compulsion. Dawn stopped talking about it; she started to steal more in quantity, size, and price. Whenever she had an opportunity to swipe something, there was a voice in the back of her head urging her to take it. She didn’t want it, she didn’t require it; she just had to have it. 

Shortly after Joyce’s funeral, Dawn started to dabble in shoplifting. Her friends were not willing to go that far, so Dawn left them in the dark. Experimentally, she snatched chapstick and candy bars from gas stations and supply stories. She didn’t get caught. So, she kept going—bigger, better, faster.

Dawn tried to set boundaries for herself. No stealing from friends or family. After Buffy’s death, that rule was discarded. She began to steal from the Magic Box. At first, she felt guilty. But the more she did it, the more she failed to stop herself, the number she got, the less shits she gave. She felt little guilt, if any, when stealing now. 

By this point, she knew there was something very wrong with her. Why was she like this? Why couldn’t she stop? What compelled her to do these things? Dawn didn’t feel guilty, but she felt disgusted. 

For a long time, Dawn was never close to getting caught. She used to put lots of effort into shoplifting, but she began to slip. When you form a habit like that, you stop being cautious and start acting on instinct. Due to such behavior, a cashier almost subdued her once in a store after she hid a makeup palette in her bag. She ran the fastest she had ever run in her life and never went back. The adrenaline rush she felt after escaping was intoxicating. For days afterward, she expected the police to show up at her house. Though it wasn’t realistic, she ran through scenarios in her mind of the police catching her and tracking her down, like in a spy movie. 

On the other end of this spectrum, were times Dawn stole because it had become easier than paying for it. Food, mainly. She didn’t necessarily get cravings for stealing some chips, but it was just easier than bringing it up to the front register and paying for it. 

She met another girl like her, and they teamed up. The girl taught her the ways of the trade; which stores were easier, the secrets to finding a blind spot, make-shift gadgets to help you. One would distract a worker while the other stole. The duo even got away with stealing alcohol. Dawn didn’t care much for it, but it was double the thrill. It was also during this time Dawn got away with the biggest heist of her career—she stole an entire box DVD set, 3 dresses, a frozen TV dinner, and an assortment of makeup. 

The Buffybot, sickeningly enough, became her confessional. Except she wasn’t confessing to try and stop—she was doing it because, just like the stealing, she just needed to. She had an impulse to do it. She never pretended the Buffybot was really Buffy, though. In fact, if it was Buffy, Dawn thought she might just die of shame.

With her older sister gone, another element was added to it—the control. At the beginning, Dawn convinced herself she had her kleptomaniac tendencies under in check. Now, Dawn was giving into her tendencies to try and control. Control her life, her being, her circumstances. Now it was a coping mechanism. Every time something when wrong at school, she would steal. Every time Willow got mad at her for not taking out the trash, she would steal. Every time she wanted to cry her heart out and beg at Buffy’s grave for her to return, she would steal instead. The others were so involved in themselves they didn’t notice her new possessions. She no longer kept wintergreen gum and markers under her bed in a chest; she freely displayed her dresses, lipsticks, shoes and more all around her room. No one batted an eye. They were as ignorant as the cashier clerks.

When Buffy came back her impulses didn’t stop. Well, for a short period they did. She was immersed in the euphoria of Buffy’s return, but nothing ever lasted for Dawn. Nothing good was ever maintained. Not only were things back to being a mess, but Buffy’s presence didn’t magically restore her to who she was. A part of her had hoped it would, and another part was irrationally angry at the thought of having to stop. It didn’t matter which choice she wanted, anyhow: Dawn had a problem, and that it couldn’t simply go away or dissipate in a cloud of dust like a vampire. She couldn’t open up about it or seek help. Both that she didn’t want to, and that she was too far gone. Dawn couldn’t confess it now; she would be admitting to an insane number of criminal occurrences, both moral and legal. Everyone would judge her, no one would trust her again.

She’d adapted to living like this. She acknowledged it; she was a klepto now. Dawn would just have to continue on this way, because there was no other way out.


End file.
